


Top Ten

by starwarned



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Sad Simon Snow, Sad Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Soft Boys, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, sorry spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24978586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: I can’t kiss him without thinking about how much I don’t deserve him.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was totally going to be fluffy and remorseful almost-break-up sex, but nevermind. Whoops.

**SIMON**

I can’t kiss him without thinking about how much I don’t deserve him. 

Baz presses kiss after kiss to my mouth, which I’m returning as much as I’m able to but I can’t stop staring at his extreme fucking vampiric widow’s peak. I bring my hands up to it and smooth down the front until I can pull away from him and just stare at his forehead and hairline. I run my fingers through it until they catch softly at the ends and I move to press my hands against the back of his neck. 

Baz’s eyes are still closed and he relaxes into my hold, sighing softly (and maybe that’s because he’s just out of breath, but it feels pretty nice). 

I wish he would open his eyes and actually look at me. 

I feel like he hasn’t looked at me in weeks. Whenever we kiss, whenever we’re intimate, whenever we’re even just lying on the sofa, Baz doesn’t look at me. He has his eyes closed or just barely averted. Sometimes his gaze will catch on my wings or on the moles on my neck, but no matter where they are, I can’t connect with him. 

I’d like to say  _ that’s _ why I’m doing this, but I know it’s deeper than that. Every time Baz glances at my wings, I wish I didn’t have them. I wish I still had my magic, I wish I’d never had magic in the first place, I wish I’d never gone to Watford, I wish I’d never met Baz. 

I guess I don’t mean it like that. 

Baz is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I used to think that maybe I kind of reciprocated that for Baz, but that’s changed. Maybe I was worthy of him when I was the  _ Chosen One _ ,  _ The Greatest Mage _ , an  _ actual  _ mage. I’m obviously not that now. 

Baz nudges my neck with his nose, his arm readjusting a little bit from where it’s pinned underneath my back. “You okay?” 

I realize I forgot to think and kiss at the same time. I was just thinking. 

“Yeah, of course, sorry,” I whisper. 

Baz shrugs and presses his face further into my neck. He occasionally purses his lips a little bit in order to kiss me. 

It would be nice if I didn’t know I have to start talking or I’ll lose my nerve. 

“Hey, Baz?” 

Baz hums into my skin in response. 

“I have to tell you something.”  _ Fuck, is it too late to stop and pretend that absolutely nothing is wrong?  _

“Sure.” Baz seems unbothered, his breath fanning over my neck and giving me goosebumps. 

I sit up a little bit taking him with me. “We have to stop.” 

Baz laughs softly. “What? Ordering takeout four nights a week?” He tucks his head against my shoulder. “You’re probably right.” 

I sit up even further so Baz’s head slips down to press against my stomach. I really had hoped that would make him take this seriously and sit up with me, but he just presses kisses against my stomach, lifting my shirt a little bit to get more access. 

I sigh, letting it happen for just a little bit and pressing up into Baz’s mouth. This isn’t even on my top ten things I’ll miss about Baz list, but maybe it hits top twenty. 

The list of things I’ll miss about Baz is one I’ve thought about consistently for the past two weeks. What can I say, I’m a list person. 

  1. _Baz making dinner and then letting it go cold because he’s too busy kissing me._



“Baz,” I say softly. “This isn’t about takeout.”

  1. _Sitting at the table with Penelope and making sure to sit across from each other so Baz can run his foot up my leg._



“Then what is it?” Baz seems determined not to look at me, keeping his face pressed against my stomach, running his fingers over my hip gently. He slides his hand down a little bit and pinches at my arse. I flinch but it forces me to laugh a little bit. 

Even when I am trying to break up with him, Baz still just wants to fuck. Horny bastard doesn’t know any better.

  1. _Sex. This speaks for itself._



“Baz, please. Come here.” 

Baz begrudgingly presses my shirt down with one final kiss before adjusting his position so he can kiss my neck, sucking at the skin gently. 

  1. _Neck kisses. Baz has a thing about kissing the moles on my neck and face and it’s so good._



He finally moves so our heads are at the same level, but he’s not looking at me. Why would he? He reaches up and fusses with a loose curl by my forehead. I return the action, tugging at his hair so maybe he’ll make eye contact with me.

  1. _Baz’s vampire hairline._



He does, finally. 

“What’s wrong, Snow?” 

“Baz, this has to stop. I mean,” I gesture to our intertwined position on the couch. “This. Us.” 

“Us?” Baz still doesn’t get it. He shifts his hips and tucks my leg to the side. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean, Baz. It doesn’t work anymore.” 

Baz looks confused and runs a hand through his hair carefully, releasing the scent of his shampoo, which fills my senses. 

  1. _Baz constantly taking showers and coming out smelling exactly like himself._



“It does work. What the hell are you talking about?” 

I smile grimly.  _ Ah, he gets it now.  _ “It doesn’t. It hasn’t for weeks. Months, maybe. Ever since I got these.” I stretch my left wing out as it’s the one not pressed against the sofa. “You know I’m right. I don’t want you to try and make me feel better.”

“This is coming out of nowhere, Snow. What are you talking about?”

Baz tightens his grip on my waist and I think about saying  _ Just dicking around!  _ and hugging him close to me. I could pretend for a little while longer. 

  1. _Holding Baz and curling him in my arms, cocooning us in my wings and pretending nothing else exists. Holding someone else will never feel that good._



I’ve definitely come too far for that. I remind myself that this is what’s best. For him. And maybe for me, too. Maybe I’ll be motivated to actually get out of the house and do something other than walk around the corner to buy snacks. 

“I love you, Simon.” 

I can’t say it back. I can’t even bring myself to be happy that he said my fucking name. I feel like I’ll burst into tears if I say his name. 

“I care about you so much. I’ve been obsessed with you for years, practically my whole life.” Baz’s hand has slipped from around my waist so I pick it up and carefully run my fingers over his. “You are the best person I know. I don’t want to-” I pause, not able to even vocalize the term  _ break up _ . “-stop being with you just because I’m not good enough for you. That’s part of it, I guess.” 

Now I’m the one who can’t look at Baz in the eyes. 

  1. _Baz’s eyes. When they’re actually looking at me, they’re so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. He’s beautiful all the time (and he knows it), but there’s something extra attractive about staring into the eyes of someone you love._



He’s completely silent. 

I don’t know what else to say. I had a whole speech planned out, but in the moment, it feels wrong. It feels wrong to spew something previously prepared at this man rather than be in the moment and tell him how I feel. I’m unable to do that either, apparently. 

Baz pulls his hand from mine and for a second, I think he might slap me. Instead, he touches his thumb and forefinger to my chin, tilting my head up so I’m forced to look at him. His eyes are red, presumably from holding in tears and I’m sure mine look the same. 

I start to cry in earnest. “I’m sorry,” I breathe out. 

Baz touches my cheek. “I can’t say it’s okay. It’s not. I hate seeing you in pain. I don’t want to make you unhappy.”

“You don’t make me unhappy. I make myself unhappy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“You’re so  _ good _ , Baz. I’m nothing.” 

“You’re not nothing.” His eyes flash like I’ve personally offended him. “Fuck, Simon, I can’t even understand how you could think like that.” 

“I’ve thought about this for weeks, Baz.” 

“Weeks?” Baz looks stricken. “You’ve been thinking of breaking up with me for weeks and I’ve just been  _ here _ , loving you?” 

I can’t tell if he’s upset at me or himself for that.

I had hoped I wouldn’t have to bring it up, but I think it’ll be the only thing that drives my point home. “You don’t even look at me anymore.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You don’t. I’ve noticed it. Anytime we’re talking or doing something together -  _ Christ _ , even when we’re having sex, you don’t look me in the eyes. I can tell that you don’t want to look at me anymore.” 

Baz doesn’t say anything. It feels like an admission of guilt.

“I love you, Simon.” I can barely hear him. 

  1. _Feeling loved. Being loved by him. Baz loves so fiercely that sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe. It feels so much like maybe I don’t need to breathe because he’ll provide me the breath. He’s loved me for years (and I’ve loved him too) and even if he’s not the most publicly affectionate person alive, I know that he cares so much. He puts me first._



I decide to be bold. I’ve said what I need to say and Baz seems like he’s accepted it (well, as much as he’s going to). I untangle myself from him and stand up. It hurts to be apart from him, even just physically. I can’t imagine what it will be like when he actually leaves. 

“I think you should go,” I say, quietly enough that part of me hopes he doesn’t hear me. 

Baz’s eyes are wide as he stares at me, hands pressed against the cushions of the couch as if he’s trying to hold himself up. 

“Are you serious?” His voice breaks a little bit at the end of the question and my heart jolts forward in my chest. “We’re done talking?”

I can’t say  _ yes _ . I can’t say anything. I just nod, looking away from him. 

Baz stands up and carefully walks towards me. I can tell he’s holding in his frustration by the way he’s gripping the sides of his jeans into tight fists. 

I look at him, but I’m blinking too much to really focus. I can at least tell Baz is crying too. 

“There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.” That’s probably not true, but I can’t talk about it anymore. 

He gently puts his hands on my shoulders and leans forward to kiss my forehead. “I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I’ll leave if you really want me too. That doesn’t mean I’m done trying, Simon Snow. I’ll give you your space, but I’ve loved you for years and I’m not going to stop now.” He says all that into my skin and I start to cry harder, my breath catching in my throat. 

I don’t respond. 

Baz lets go of me and heads out the front door. He doesn’t look back at me and I don’t know if I wanted him to or not. I watch him go.

  1. _His arse. Baz keeps it tight._




	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to write a second part because they deserve to be together. My boys deserve to be happy.

**BAZ**

  
  


_There’s no fucking way I’m letting this happen._

The second I’ve left Simon’s flat and gotten to the top of the flight of stairs, I have to stop and press my face into the brick wall just next to me. I try to stop crying. 

I could lie to myself and say I didn’t think this would happen. I figured that eventually, Snow would freak out. I’d hoped we’d have more time and that it wouldn’t _hurt_ so much. I was naive in thinking that. 

_I’m going back in there. I have to._

I can’t force myself to move. Part of me wants to stay here and wait until Simon eventually comes out, but I know him. He hasn’t left the flat in days and this event probably set him back a least a week in his schedule of going anywhere. Another part of me wants to barge inside and demand an explanation, but I guess I’ve received one. I guess I want a recount of the votes. 

I push myself off the wall a little bit so I can actually breathe. Reaching up, I realize there’s the impression of bricks in my forehead from how hard I was pressing into the wall. 

_I should have told him what he means to me. Simon Snow is my fucking life. And now he’s fucking up my life. Fitting._

I don’t want to feel bitter and angry, but I do. I don’t know what’s stopping me from slamming down the door and yelling at him. I did it all the time while we were at school. What’s changed? He loves me back now? Well, he doesn’t, I guess. He hasn’t for weeks. 

I feel transported back to those few years at Watford where I was so in love with that boy and he didn’t want my advances. (I guess maybe he did. Certainly not at first). 

I sigh heavily and run my hand through my hair before deciding it’s not worth it to go back in there. I’ll just yell and cry, Simon will yell and cry, and nothing will get done. I’m sure he’s already torturing himself over this decision and I don’t want to make the wound worse. 

I take one last glance at the door, imaging Simon sitting with his back against it (like in those romantic comedies where the love interests just kissed for the first time). I’m sure he’s already back in bed. 

I go home. 

  
  


**SIMON**

  
  


It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen Baz. 

I keep thinking I see him. I walked to the shop around the corner the other day and saw someone tall with black hair and immediately assumed it was him. It wasn’t and I didn’t expect to be that disappointed. 

I’ve started going to therapy two times a week. I’ve had past experiences with it, but with how I’ve been moping around the house, Penelope insisted I make consistent appointments. It’s been helpful and I really like my therapist, but it’s made me realize three things.

1\. I want Baz back. 

2\. Baz does love me (or did?) and I was too blinded by my own self-hatred to see that he really and truly cared. 

3\. I’ll never get him back. Not after what I did to him. 

I’ve thought about texting him a hundred times. I’ve nearly called him twice. I want to tell him I’m getting better. I want to tell him I’ll communicate more and that I’ll work on not assuming he despises me. 

To be honest, I was never able to figure out why he didn’t _look_ at me. And sure, my brain probably escalated the reality of that, but I know I wasn’t imagining it all. I’ll have to ask him. If I ever fucking see him again. 

As it so happens, apparently Penelope has seen him. They went to lunch last week and she didn’t bother to tell me until this morning. 

“What do you mean you had _lunch_ with _Baz_?”

“Just that, Simon. I had lunch with Baz. He’s doing well.” Penelope refused to look at me when she tore out my heart and threw it into a river.

_He’s doing well._

Baz is doing well. 

Of course he is. 

I haven’t showered in four days, have been drinking more soda than breathing air, and am maybe the saddest I’ve been in months, but Baz is doing _well_. I can’t even find it in myself to be mad at him. I’m glad he’s doing better than I am. 

_I miss him._

I’m pulled out of my thoughts the second I hear Penelope open the door and I practically roll off my bed so I can go greet her. I don’t bother to put on a shirt but I at least straighten out my pajama pants that have been mussed up from lying in bed all day. 

“Simon?” Penelope calls out. 

“Hold on!” I shout back, pulling on a pair of socks because my feet are unreasonably cold.

I shuffle slowly into the living room and Penelope is standing just in front of the door, looking sheepish. 

“Hi,” I say warmly, happy to see her. Penny’s been my best friend for such a long time that sometimes I forget to be thankful that she’s still around. Today I’m not taking her for granted. 

“Hey.” She’s nervous about something, I can tell. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Don’t get upset.” 

“About what?” I’m starting to get scared. 

“He was just standing outside when I got home.” 

Before I can ask her again what the hell she’s on about, she moves and opens up the door. 

  
  


**BAZ**

  
  


I see Simon for the first time in weeks. 

He looks fucking terrible. 

His hair flops to the side (he obviously hasn’t gotten it cut in a while), he’s not wearing a shirt, his pajama bottoms have multiple unidentifiable stains, and his eyes look red and tired like he’s been awake for three days straight. 

I’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly in my life. 

Seeing him in person after being away from him for so long is simultaneously a relief and also a stab in the back. It was naive to think I could get over him, especially in such a short amount of time.

The second that Simon and I make eye contact, his eyes go wide in shock. I can’t blame him. 

Penelope has stepped closer to the couch, in order to not be in the way of Simon and I just staring at each other. It wouldn’t be surprising if something caught on fire between the two of us.

“What is he doing here?” Simon is still looking straight at me, but he’s addressing Penelope. I can tell he’s trying his best to sound intimidating (a common goal of Simon Snow), but there’s sadness there. I know his voice better than anyone.

“I wanted to talk to you,” I say softly, which causes Simon to look away from me. 

“Sorry, Simon, he was just here,” Penelope apologizes. I want to be upset with her for dumping me from her responsibility so quickly, but of course, I know she’s been his best friend for years. I’ve only put off being a prick to her for maybe the last year (and even then, we’re not incredibly close). 

“Snow,” I breathe. I can’t seem to talk louder. “Can I please just say something to you?” He’s still staring at Penelope. “Alone?” I add. 

Simon pauses and then nods at Penelope. I can tell she doesn’t love the idea of leaving us alone. 

Penelope leaves. Simon’s gaze trains on my shoes. 

“So, uh,” I start. “It’s been a few weeks.” 

_Why did I say that? Obviously he knows how long it’s been._ I’ve never felt this uncoordinated. 

“How are you?” I ask. 

Snow looks up at me in surprise. 

I wait for him to answer. 

“I’m fine,” he says. It’s a lie, but I don’t expect for him to tell me exactly what’s going on. 

I can’t stop myself. “I miss you.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, but unless I’m mistaken, his eyes seem to soften a little bit. 

I decide to just dig an even bigger hole for me to climb out of later. “I miss you so much, Snow. I think about you every single day and I still can’t figure out what happened. I understand if you haven’t had enough space or if you just don’t want-” I cut myself off and look at the ground. “I can’t be without you, Simon. My entire life revolved around you for years. I would like for it to continue revolving around you.” 

Simon stops me by taking a few steps towards me. He’s not saying anything, but I can tell he wants to. That poor bastard is really horrible at communicating his feelings. 

“I think we’re good together,” I continue, waiting for Simon to decide to actually say something. “I’ve loved you for so long and I know that you love me too. You did for a while, at least. I’m sorry if you ever felt that I wasn’t loving you enough.” 

“I do love you.” 

_He finally speaks._

“I do,” Simon says quietly, not looking at me again. “I’m sorry.” 

That’s definitely not what I expected. 

“You know what my brain is like,” Simon continues, one hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head in. “I freaked out and it was just especially bad. I thought you didn’t care about me anymore - that it was guilt or something.” He trails off at the end and looks back up to me. 

I step closer. “It’s _not_ guilt,” I insist. “I want to be with you because I love you. Because I think we understand each other on some plane that others just don’t get. You and I, Simon, we’re _the_ team.” 

“I know.” 

“Then _why_?” 

“I don’t know, Baz.” 

“You have to know. You broke up with me.” I want to be angrier than I am, but I feel like I’m on the verge of tears. 

“You never looked at me!” He nearly shouts, then looks down the hallway at Penny’s room. He continues, quieter. “I feel like every time I looked at you, you were looking away.” 

I sigh. I figured this would come up. “You don’t know what it’s like to look at you, Simon. Especially being in love with you. Fuck, you’re the brightest thing in any room and I feel so strongly towards you that I can’t look you in the eyes because I’ll burst into flames. I was never purposefully avoiding looking at you because I don’t care about you. It’s like staring at an eclipse sometimes.” 

Simon’s silent, but his eyes are trained on mine, practically daring me to try and look away. 

I don’t break eye contact. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t affectionate enough or if I didn’t tell you how much I loved you often enough. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll fix it. I’ll do better. I’d do anything to have you again.” 

Simon smiles, sadly. He reaches a hand out to carefully take mine. “I know I fucked up,” he breathes out. We’re close enough that I can still hear him even if he’s barely speaking above a whisper. “I regret it every day. I miss you. I- _want_ you, Baz. The last weeks have been miserable without you.” 

I have no clue what to say, but I squeeze Simon’s fingers gently. I start to smile. 

“I’ll be better, too,” he promises. 

“Then-?” I question, too afraid to put it into words, in case I’ve read the signals wrong.

“I love you, Baz.” 

Simon’s eyes fucking twinkle. 

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, already reaching a hand up to softly press against his neck. 

He barely gets a chance to nod before I’m crushing my mouth to his, putting every ounce of passion and care I have into the motion. He’s soft and hot against me, pushing back with just as much fervor. 

He pulls away sharply. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats. 

I shake my head. “It’s okay.” 

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?” 

“ _Bullshit_ ,” I insist, running his fingers along the nape of Simon’s neck. “I wanted to kill you for a few days there.” 

“Not blaming you. So did I.” 

I grin despite myself, kissing him again and pulling him into my arms. 

  
  


**SIMON**

  
  


_I don’t need a list of reasons to take Baz back._


End file.
